


It Goes On

by Ashkatchum



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 05:39:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11155380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashkatchum/pseuds/Ashkatchum
Summary: This is a story about life, love and letting go.





	It Goes On

**Author's Note:**

> Yup... I'm gonna apologise for the gloominess in advance!

The smoke filled her lungs as she stood in the cold alleyway. It's getting late but she's lost all concept of time. She's torn. She does not know what she wants. Ambivalence seemed to be her second name. 

 

Is a warm bed really what she wants when she knows she's not going to be able to sleep anyway? 

 

But isn't it better than staying on her feet and just watching the misery around her? She couldn't decide. She didn't have to anyway. 

 

Her train of thought was interrupted by a cough. 

 

"Ironic." She says with a smirk. 

 

She throws the cigarette on the ground and crushes it with her shoe. Busted. 

 

"Oh, I see how it is. Not only is a doctor smoking but you're littering too? Classy."

 

"Hey. Give me a break, okay?" She replies, somewhat annoyed by the interruption but also glad to be saved from her thoughts. Ambivalent. 

 

"Why's a doctor out smoking this late at night?" She asks amused by her reaction. 

 

"I'm not a doctor."

 

"Then what's with the coat? Do you enjoy parading around the hospital pretending to be one?"

 

"Ha ha, you're very funny." She replies. 

 

"I know." She says, a bit too fondly of herself. 

 

"I'm a medical student actually and I'm stuck here for another twenty million hours."

 

"Oh. Well that explains why you look like you haven't slept in about a week."

 

"It's two weeks actually, so I'll take that as a compliment." It doesn't insult her. She's used to it and she can sense the teasing in her tone. "And what is a patient doing out of her bed at this time of night?"

 

"How did you ever guess I was a patient? Was it my stunning bed gown?" She replies with a little twirl. 

 

"Nah. I'm just psychic." She says with the first genuine smile she's had in a while.

 

"Sleep is... difficult to come by." She replies and for the first time this conversation seems to take a bleak turn. 

 

_I know what you mean._

 

"Anyway," She says in an attempt to return to the light heartedness of the conversation, "Why do you wanna be a doctor?" 

 

"Hang on, lemme just fix my coat, I wasn't prepared for another med school interview." She replies mockingly. 

 

"Ha ha, you're very funny." She imitates. 

 

"I know." She says with a sparkle in her eyes. "I don't want to. I just have to." She continues. 

 

"Why do you have to?"

 

"Because you can't choose your destiny."

 

"Why do I feel like we're in some kinda Disney movie right now?" She asks. 

 

"Because the stars are shining bright."

 

"If you don't want to do it, why can't you just quit it?"

 

"If I was gonna quit it, I should have done it before I got myself neck deep in student loans."

 

The quiet takes over and the breeze is stronger than before. She clutches her gown around her waist and tries not to shiver. Her body is betraying her yet again. 

 

"Well, anyway, it was nice to meet you. I should probably head back now before my professor rips me a new one." She says with one foot already on the way. "Oh and, I hope you get better soon."

 

"Wait." She says. It's firm and strong. Just like her. 

 

The 'doctor's' feet stop moving and she turns around to face her with an arched eyebrow. 

 

"I have a proposal for you." She says a bit too confidently. 

 

"I'm not ready to get married but thank you, I'm flattered."

 

"Shut up. That's not what I was going to say."

 

She stares at her with a mixture of confusion and unsurprisingly, a hint of fear. 

 

"I'm dying and I have a shitload of money to spend." She says bluntly. She was never one to shy around the subject. "The only problem is that I don't have anyone to spend it with. Be that person for me and I'll take you on an adventure of a lifetime and then, when I'm gone, you can keep the rest of the money."

 

"What?" She replies dumbfounded. 

 

"I'm dying and I have a shi-" She interrupts her. 

 

"I heard you but like what the hell are you saying?"

 

"I have stage 4 cancer. I have a lot of money. You look miserable. Take a break. Come with me."

 

"She stared at her for a period that's just too damn long to be comfortable for either of them. A million thoughts rushing through her head.  _Is she for real? Is she messing with me? What? Who? When?... What?_

 

And then, finally, just once, she didn't feel so ambivalent. 

 

_What's the worst that could happen?_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah... I know... This topic is controversial to say the least and trust me I'm not taking light of a serious situation. I just wanted to write (or well, in this case, to type) about something that has meaning (to me at least). 
> 
> Any feedback would genuinely be appreciated either in the comments or over on tumblr: ambivalentprejudice


End file.
